Prisoner Of The Dominion
by ButcherPete1
Summary: Timur Ibn Buhaina was a private security guard, a mercenary, but during a job in the Gamma Quadrant, he was attacked by Jem'Hadar soldiers. He is now their prisoner. What will happen to him? Read to find out! (Rated T for now, may change to M for stronger language)
1. Capture

**Prologue**

"You are our prisoner, Human." Said the imposing Jem'Hadar. His skin reminded Timur of the Rhinoceroses of Africa on Earth. Maybe some reptilian features.

"I suppose I am." Said Timur calmly. He handed his phaser over hilt-first. The Jem'Hadar took it, and handed it to one of his soldiers. Timur also drew his other knives, a khukuri, and a janbiya, and handed them over.

"Is that all?"

"Actually, I have these." Timur pulled the final items from his pack. A pair of wooden drumsticks he bought before he left for the Gamma Quadrant.

"What are they?" Asked the Jem'Hadar.

"They are called drum sticks. They're used for playing percussion instruments." Timur loved tapping rhythms on surfaces when he was bored. It kept his mind occupied. "Do you mind if I keep them?"

"I _do_!" The Jem'Hadar snarled. He snatched them from Timur's hands. "Take him!" Timur was led away. He took one last look at the bodies of his comrades before they all beamed to the Dominion ship, and Timur was thrown into a cell, the brig. The cell was bare, with titanium walls. No windows, of course, a bench on the right side, and one door, sealed shut.

Hours later, a Vorta came. "I am Keegrun, Vorta commander of this ship." He had pale skin and violet eyes. His hair was in a bundle on top of his head, and his ears were elongated, attached to the rest of his head. Very similar and very different from a Human. "What do you call yourself?" Keegrun asked.

Timur stood up. "I am called Timur Ibn Buhaina." He said. "Pleasure to meet you." He added dryly.

The Vorta laughed. "I do like a prisoner with humor. Now, I need some information from you." He drew out a device, and began tapping on the screen. "Now, Timur, where are you from?"

"Earth. Arabian Peninsula. Medina." Timur answered.

"Are you associated with Starfleet? You don't seem to where a uniform."

"No, absolutely not. I work in security."

"Security... What kinds?"

"Bar bouncer, your Jem'Hadar stumbled upon one of my escort jobs, occasional bodyguard jobs, that sort of thing."

"It seems this job didn't go so well."

"Well, I did kill three Jem'Hadar single-handedly. People say they are tough. I find that to be a nice achievement." Timur grinned darkly.

The Vorta smiled back. "Single-handedly? Incredible. Well, you _are_ trespassing in Dominion space, and you killed Jem'Hadar soldiers, and that makes you an enemy of the Dominion. We are taking you to a detention center, and you will stay there until you are no longer an enemy of the Dominion. As the only other being on this ship that eats, we will have to feed you from my personal stores." He paused. "Dine with me tonight. I would like to 'know my enemy,' as it were."

Timur smiled, and bowed his head. "Thank you very much, Keegrun. I would like that."

The Vorta smiled. "I will take my leave."

"As-salaam Alaikum." Said Timur in farewell.

The Vorta got a confused look on his face, turned and left. He paused outside the door. "Oh, I believe you would like these." A Jem'Hadar hand appeared, handing Keegrun a pair of sticks. Timur's drumsticks! The Vorta handed them to Timur.

Timur looked down at them and grinned widely. "You don't know how grateful I am, Keegrun." The Vorta smiled, bowed his head, and walked away. The door sealed shut. Timur sat down and began tapping a rhythm, on the floor, the walls, his legs, and began to whistle...

A few hours later, Timur had finished a rendition of "Big Noise From Winnetka," a Jem'Hadar entered the cell. "Leave the sticks." He said with disdain. Timur left the sticks on the bench, and followed the Jem'Hadar.

As they walked, Timur tried to make conversation with his captor. "So, what are you called?"

"I am First Ihto'klin." The First continued walking in silence.

"Ever meet a Founder?"

"No." Timur figured Jem'Hadar were not very talkative. They arrived at the Vorta's cabin. Ihtoklin opened the door. "Vorta, your guest."

Keegrun appeared at the door. "Good. Come in, come in. Leave us, First." Ihtoklin nodded, and left. The Vorta's cabin was very spartan: A small cot for a bed, a small round table with two chairs. The extra chair was likely for Timur's benefit. "Sit down, Timur Ibn Buhaina." The Vorta gestured to the chair on the left.

"Oh, call me Timur, please." He sat down in the chair, and Keegrun sat across from him. On the table there were some nuts and berries, two cups, and a jug of water.

"I apologize if the food is not what you are used to. It is just one of the few items I truly enjoy." He picked up a berry and popped it into his mouth. He seemed to take pleasure from it.

Timur tried a berry. It reminded him of a strawberry. "This reminds me of a strawberry, from Earth."

The Vorta smiled. "Yes, I tried one of those, once. I see the resemblance, but it's not really the same." He got a questioning look on his face. "What was that phrase you used with me earlier? 'Asalam alakum? What does it mean?"

"As-salaam alaikum is an Arabic phrase that translates to 'peace be upon you.' It is used as a greeting and a farewell by most people from the region I am from, the Arabian Peninsula." Timur was interested in the sharing of culture between different races. "If I'm going to share some of my culture with you, I'd like you to share some of yours with me, if that's fine by you."

The Vorta smiled. "Of course. What kind of host would I be if I didn't? As you know, I am a Vorta. To understand us, you must know we have very little in the way of aesthetics. We don't appreciate art, music, or taste for the most part. Like I said, I enjoy these berries and nuts, but that is just a leftover from our previous evolutionary state.

"We were once similar to your Earth apes, you know. Climbing, swinging from tree to tree, eating nuts and berries." He gestured to the nuts and berries on his table, smiling.

"Interesting. Humans share an ancestor or two with our apes, actually." It was nice to find evolutionary similarities with the Vorta. "So, why the absence of aesthetics? What happened there?"

"Well, to tell that story, you must know of the Founders. Have you heard of them?"

"Well, of course I've _heard_ of them, who hasn't?" The Vorta laughed. This one seemed to laugh easily. "The only thing I really know about them is that they can morph into different shapes."

"Well, the Founders were persecuted for this ability ever since they had it. They weren't trusted. A Founder was traveling through our jungles one day, running from predators. We hid him, and in return, he promised to change us, make us beautiful, unlike an ape." He smiled. "They returned, one day, and changed us. We swore loyalty to these Gods ever since that day."

"Isn't it a mistake about the aesthetics though?"

Keegrun looked at him sharply. "Gods don't make mistakes!" He said.

Timur held his hands up in defense. "I apologize, I didn't intend to offend."

The Vorta sighed. "No, I apologize, I shouldn't have spoken so sharply."

"I try not to judge people on religious attitudes. I think it's great you worship the Founders."

The Vorta smiled. "Thank you. Do humans, such as yourself, have a religion? I know the Klingons killed their gods, what about you?"

"Hmm... Humans all have different ideas about religion. There are many diverse religions from Earth. The most prevalent are Agnosticism, Atheism, and Abrahamic faiths. There are three main groups of the Abrahamic faiths, Judaism, who's followers are called Jews, Christianity, which is followed by Christians, and Islam, who's adherents are Muslims.

"I was born to a muslim household, but I lost my faith after I reached adulthood. I'm an Agnostic right now, and not knowing suits me perfectly. I travel a lot- well, not anymore, apparently," The Vorta laughed at that. "Anyway, when I traveled, I would share my culture with different people, and learn about theirs."

"A warrior scholar, then? Interesting."

The Vorta and the Terran continued talking for hours into the night, before the dinner was over, discussing humans, vorta, and jem'hadar. The Vorta escorted Timur back to his cell personally.

"I had an interesting conversation with you, human. I had hoped to have more, but we are close to the Detention Center as it is."

"I enjoyed talking with you, Vorta. It was an enlightening conversation."

Keegrun smiled. "Sleep well, Timur. As-salaam Alaikum."

"Wa-alaikum as-salaam." Timur smiled and stepped into his cell. The door sealed shut. Timur sat down on the bench, and lay down. He set the drumsticks on the floor, and went to sleep.


	2. 371

"Wake up, Timur." Timur opened his eyes, and saw the Vorta standing over him. Keegrun smiled down at him, and Timur smiled back. "We have reached our destination, Internment Camp 371."

"Alright, then." Timur sat up, and shrugged into his jacket. He looked at his drumsticks. "I'm likely not allowed to keep them, right?"

"Oh, don't worry. I cleared it with the Vorta in charge of the camp. You are allowed to keep them."

"That's unnaturally generous for a prison."

"I told him you mean no harm, it's just an instrument for music."

"Well, thank you, Keegrun. I hope I can repay your kindness someday, but I probably can't." Timur laughed awkwardly. He stood and followed the Vorta. They reached a room with two Jem'Hadar guards.

"Here is where we part, unfortunately. Like as not, we will never see each other again." The Vorta smiled sadly. "It was good to meet you, Timur. As-salaam Alaikum."

Timur held out his hand. The Vorta shook it. "Wa-alaikum As-salaam." Timur stepped over to the guards, and within seconds he was on the surface. Several Jem'Hadar circled him.

One, likely the First of the prison, stepped forward, and looked expectantly at another Jem'Hadar.

"He has been scanned, has no weapons, and his identity is being confirmed."

The First frowned at the sticks in Timur's hand. "What are those in his hand?"

"He calls them 'drum sticks.' They were cleared by the Vorta on the ship, and by Deyos."

The First looked annoyed. "Very well. I am First Ikat'ika. This is internment Camp 371. You are here because you are an enemy of the Dominion. There is no release, and no escape, save for death." He smiled at the mention of death, turned around and began to walk away. Timur felt a shove from behind him, and followed the First through the compound. "You will be filtered in Barracks Six. You are free to move about the compound after morning assembly and before curfew, but know this:" He turned to face Timur. "Beyond the Atmospheric Dome there is very little. Airless vacuum and barren rock. Leave, even for an instant, and you will die." With that, the First left him.

Another Jem'Hadar gestured with his rifle. "This way." Timur followed the Jem'Hadar, taking in the compound. There were few prisoners walking and standing around the "yard." One Breen stood alone, four Markalians stood in one corner. One Romulan was walking to another building. All of them stopped to stare at the new arrival.

The Jem'Hadar stopped in front of a building. "This is barracks six." He looked at the drumsticks in Timur's hand. "You are only allowed those in this building, not anywhere else in the compound."

Timur nodded. "Naturally." Timur turned and walked into the barracks. He looked all around. Six cots, and one facility for restroom usage. One cot was occupied, a Breen was resting on it. He (or was it a she?) looked up at Timur's entrance.

Timur sat down on the unoccupied cot to his left, facing the Breen. The Breen sat up, and stared at Timur. It had a slimmer body, so Timur assumed it was female.

"Um... Hello." Timur said.

The Breen nodded its head, and a spur of electronic gibberish spewed from its helmet's speaker.

"Sorry, I can't understand you. Can you understand me?" She nodded once more. This was going to be tricky. "Language barrier's a bitch, ain't it?" The Breen didn't respond. "Anyway, I'm Timur Ibn Buhaina. People just call me Timur."

As it pointed at Timur, the Breen gave out more electronic noise, but it was understandable this time. "TEE-MOOR." Timur nodded. The Breen gestured to itself, and another noise came. "GAGKHH."

Timur pointed at the Breen. "Gagkh." The Breen nodded. Timur smiled. "Well, pleasure to meet you, Gagkh. I wish it would be under better circumstances than being in an internment camp." He laughed.

The door opened, and another Breen entered. It was larger than the other. It looked at Timur, then talked with the other. He recognized his name, the name of the first, and that was it. The new Breen turned back to Timur, and gestured to itself. "TRAHR."

Timur stood. "Pleasure to meet you both." He held his hand out. Both Breen shook it, and Timur returned to sitting on his cot. The first pointed at the other, than to itself, and clasped its hands together. "What?" It repeated the action. "You two, together?" It nodded. "Like... um... marriage?" They both nodded. "Oh, well good for you!"

They both just stared at Timur, as if expecting something else. Another thought popped into Timur's head. "That means you two will want some kind of privacy occasionally, yeah?" They nodded. "No problem. Probably not during Curfew, as there is no-where else to go." They nodded. "Just let me know, and I'll go for a walk."

The Breen looked at each other, then the first pointed at Timur, then the door, and cocked its head to the side. "Oh, yeah sure. It'll give me a chance to get acquainted with the space." He left his sticks on the bed. "Watch these for me though, they're my only pair." They nodded, and Timur left. A group of Romulans now stood together, outside a building across from Timur's. The Markalians still stood in the same place. A Jem'Hadar guard stood in front of a pillar by Timur's barracks. Timur began walking toward the Romulans.

They paused their conversation as he approached. "Hello," He said as he reached the trio. "I'm Timur." He held out his hand. All of them had a look of either anger or disgust, but that was what all Romulans looked like, anyway. They all shook the hand briefly.

"Greetings, Timur, and welcome to Internment Camp 371. Enjoying it, so far?" They all laughed. "I am Keerak." He gestured to the woman. "This is Veerna."

"And I am T'Nar." Interjected the other male.

"She and I are siblings, and T'Nar is an old friend." Said Keerak. "Congratulations, Timur, you are the first Human here in the Camp. How were you captured?"

"Well, I was hired by these exploring scientists as some security while they surveyed different planets here in the Gamma Quadrant. While we were on one, a Jem'Hadar squad found us, and killed my employers. I killed three Jem'Hadar, but they ended up taking me anyway."

That surprised them. "Three?" Asked Veerna. Timur nodded. "Impressive. The guards here will likely have you fight them, when the First hears of that."

"What? They make you fight here?"

T'Nar nodded. "They want to get to know the strengths and weaknesses of Alpha Quadrant races. They make us fight at least once a week. The ones who last the longest are those Breen. Their suits act as an armor, as well as refrigerating them."

Keerak grinned. "That reminds me, I think I saw that you are bunking with them, right?"

"Yeah. They kicked me out so they could have sex." The Romulans all laughed. "I'll tell you what, though, this language barrier's a bitch to get through. Can you understand them at all?"

"No, our Universal Translators don't work with their tongue. If they have one, that is."

"Those Markalians seem interested in you, though." T'Nar was right. They were whispering and pointing at the newcomer.

"I'd better introduce myself, huh? Anyone else that I don't see here?"

"One Klingon and a Half-Vulcan, Half-Klingon in Barracks Two, with one Cardassian. The Cardassian is called Deyvat, the Klingon is called Kahlaar, and the Vulclingon..." Keerak laughed at his own wit. "...Is called Selkaar. The Markalians don't like outsiders though. I wouldn't go near them if I were you."

Timur was glad. He was not fond of Markalians. The only ones he ever met were always thieves, or caused trouble in bars he bounced for. "Good. I don't like Markalians. All of them are thieves."

T'Nar nodded. "Agreed." He said with distaste.

"How did you guys get here, anyway?"

Keerak grimaced. "We were charting for the Tal Shiar. We ran into Jem'Hadar, and were taken here. This was a few years ago, when the Portal first opened."

"Wow, three years in a prison. I can't say I've been there." A sound rang out, almost like a bell. "What was that?"

"Mealtime." Timur followed the Romulans, and they reached a table, where the Cardassian, the Klingons, and the Markalians were. Jem'Hadar were giving them all trays, with some food on them. It looked like meat.

He decided to get to know the Klingons, first. "Hello, I'm Timur. You must be Kahlaar and Selkaar."

They looked up. "Yes." Said the half-Klingon. "Did the Romulans give you the run-down on us?"

"Yeah. I thought Klingons were supposed to kill themselves when captured?"

They grinned. "Not when there is hope of escape, or enemies still to fight." Replied Kahlaar.

"They'll make you fight soon, Timur. Expect it soon."

"Have you fought Jem'Hadar before?"

"Yes, actually. When I was captured. I killed three."

The Klingons widened their eyes. "Three? I did not expect that from a Human."

"I think he lies, father."

"Wait, you are related?" Asked Timur.

"Yes, Selkaar is my son."

"Well, Selkaar, know that I am not lying. I did, in fact, kill three Jem'hadar!" He glared at the Half-Vulcan. He glared back.

Kahlaar was impressed. "We only killed two when we were captured. I look forward to seeing you fight, Timur."

He looked past Timur, a glint of anger in his eyes. Timur turned around, and there stood three Jem'Hadar.

"It's time, human."

Timur understood. "Yes." He turned to the Klingons. "You want a show? Come watch!" They laughed, and followed.

They reached a small ring outside Timur's barracks. Kahlaar told him the rules. "If you hit the ground, you have to touch one of the pillars. There are no rules after that. They can be killed, you can be killed." He looked at Timur. "Qapla'! Timur nodded, and stepped in.

The First, Ikat'ika, stepped forward. "Today, we have a human captive, our first here in Internment Camp 371. We will see how they fight."

Another Jem'Hadar stepped in. "Victory is life!"

Timur smiled. "Failure is death!"

The Jem'Hadar lunged at him. Timur whirled around, dodged, and threw a punch to the guard's neck. It threw him off balance, slightly, but the guard sent a kick to Timur's torso, knocking him over. Timur hit the ground.

The First smiled. "Humans, obviously, aren't great fighters with just their hands."

Timur spat some blood, and got up, touching a pillar. It glowed for a second. Timur ran at the Jem'Hadar, and landed a punch on his face. The Jem'Hadar stood his ground, and grabbed Timur by the collar. Timur struck him with his head, and kneed him in the groin. No effect. Timur sent a few punches to his torso, and tripped him. The Jem'Hadar fell to the ground. Timur stepped back.

The Jem'Hadar snarled, and got up, touching the pillar. He lunged at Timur, again. Timur reached out, and thumbed him in the eyes, attempting to gouge them out. The Jem'Hadar grunted, and Timur took him down, and thrust his knee into his neck. Timur heard a crack, and got up. The Jem'Hadar's leg twitched slightly, then went limp.

The Klingons were impressed. The First frowned. "That's it, for now." He and the other Jem'Hadar cleared out.

Timur felt his torso. It hurt like hell. "Damn, he really got me..."

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see the Breen behind him. They had come to see him fight.

The one by the door nodded, Trahr. Was it approval? The other, Gagkh, helped him back to the Barracks.

They helped him in, and set him on the cot. The Klingons followed. "Well fought, Timur!" Said Kahlaar.

"That _was_ impressive..." Said Selkaar, albeit grudgingly.

Gagkh was feeling his chest. More pain came. "Goddammit!" He shouted. "Sorry..." He said to the Breen. She nodded. She had a medical kit with her. She took out some bandages, and gestured to Timur's chest, the ribs. She made a hand gesture like she was holding an imaginary stick, and broke it.

"Broken ribs?" Gagkh nodded. "Alright, then." She began bandaging. When Gagkh finished, it pointed at the cot, and made the hand motion for stay.

"Stay and rest... Sure..." Timur was panting at this point. Trahr handed Timur a pill. "Terakine..?" He nodded. Timur swallowed the pill. It helped the pain a little, but it lingered.

"Don't worry, it was a good first fight, Timur. I've seen some prisoners who died in the first fight." He bowed his head, to honor the dead. "They died fighting, and honorable death. They will reach Sto-Vo-Kor, that I know."

"There were a people on... Earth, thousands of years ago, called the Vikings..." Timur began to ramble, and the Klingons and Breen listened. "They honored death in battle, too. They had... a heaven they went to, if that's how they died. It was called Valhalla... I think. There, their Gods would... welcome them to a giant mead hall, where the food and drink... were endless." Timur smiled at that. So did Kahlaar. "They would feast... then fight... and then reappear in the Hall after, to continue the cycle."

"Sounds like a fine place." Kahlaar laughed.

"What would they do after that? Just eat, drink, and fight?" Asked Selkaar.

"Oh, there were shield-maidens that they would lay with as well..." He grinned at the four. "But they would do all this until the end of days, the apocalypse of their faith. Ragnarok!" He shouted the last word, and began to cough up some blood. He passed out.


End file.
